


A Night At Home (Oneshot)

by yulinthestars



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic, double-spaced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27196132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yulinthestars/pseuds/yulinthestars
Summary: Russia became ill with a bad cold on the night he and America were going to go on a date together, and so America decided to spend the night helping him get better.
Relationships: America/Russia (Hetalia)
Kudos: 41





	A Night At Home (Oneshot)

The first thing Alfred noticed upon walking into the old house and seeing Ivan was the pallor of his skin. Though normally a lively cream, it was now a bone white splotched unsparingly with a sickly grey in all but his cheeks; which were alit with a burning scarlet hue. He’d never seen him so ill before- not even during times of severe economic duress. He must have caught something in the human way, he thought to himself... Holding back an expression of surprise at seeing him like this, he watched as Ivan’s eye’s gradually rolled over in their sockets to look his way.

His lips parted, quivering uncontrollably as he spoke. “Oh… Alfred… You are having everything we are needing for date night, yes? I will be over there in second.”

After but a moment, his trembling arms lifted up from the mound of blankets covering his body, beadlets of cold sweat breaking out and gliding down his cheek from the strain imposed on him by moving to stand up. Alfred, seeming to have broken through the worst of his shock, at least, quickly went to his side, trying to ease him back onto the couch.

“Woah-“ Alfred said, eyeing the sheer amount of sweat coming off of him, “hold your horses there, dude- I don’t think we’re going to be having a date night with you looking and feeling like death.” 

The corners of Ivan’s lips took a sharp curve downward as he heard this, his expression souring into a deep frown. 

“I can be doing date night,” he insisted, “There is none of issue.”

Mere moments after saying this, his body crumpled weakly back onto the couch, his face betraying a dual sentiment of frustration and tiredness at his inability to move as he wished. The feeling of helplessness was one of the few things he refused to endure. Alfred sighed a bit at his stubbornness, though he himself tended to act the same way when in similar circumstances, trying to cover him back up in his blankets. 

“Uhh... I really don’t think you’re going anywhere tonight, pal.”

Ivan scowled and let him, becoming quite morose at these set of events. He’d powered through severe injury and illness almost constantly for decades, and what was it that incapacitated him on the date night he’d been looking forward to for weeks? Some measly cold. Alfred cast him a sympathetic glance, gently taking his hands. 

“Hey… I’m not gonna leave you here all by yourself while you’re sick. I can stay with you! I even learned you need to put at least two hamburgers on someone’s head to help them get better after dealing with Iggy for a while!”

Alfred waited for a little laugh at his joke, as Ivan always seemed particularly amused by tales of the ridiculous things he’d done in the past, but it looked as if he weren’t entertained at all. In fact, he just looked all the more grim at the apparent ineptitude of his new, self-appointed caretaker. 

Alfred paused once more, not knowing what to do after that failed- before having an idea. “... I know what’ll cheer you up in no time! Nobody does comfort foods better than the USA!”

Without another word, he sped off to the kitchen, leaving Ivan on the couch with an expression that, if it could speak, would say “I’m done with everything right now”. Not that expressions could speak, of course. That was what mouths are for, and Ivan’s only had one thing to say on the subject.

“Блядь.”

With a deep breath, Ivan did his best to ignore the clanging and odd noises from the kitchen and made himself shift so that he was laying, resting his head upon the pillow and slightly curling into himself so his much larger body could fit onto the couch. It had been a while, he remembered, since he had felt this sick. Centuries, even. A lump grew in his chest as he thought of how ill the cold, fighting, and malnutrition made him as a child, quickly trying to change the course of his thoughts. 

He wondered a bit what exactly Alfred was cooking up in the kitchen, smells starting to waft into the living room where he lay. Although the noises coming from the area were quite horrendous, if the aroma was any indication of the final product, it wouldn’t be half bad. His mind drifted off to memories of his childhood once more at this, the chaos of it all starting to be oddly comforting as he recalled how Yekaterina used what primitive tools they had at the time to cook for him and Natalya. A small grin grew to rest on his face. 

Unconsciously, the fuzzy memories and nostalgic smells began to lull him further into a state of rest, his eyelids gradually moving closer and closer together without his noticing until they had shut all the way. Pleasant, if nonsensical, dreams began not too soon into his slumber, ideas, places, and people shifting around within his constructed world without care for logic, creating an otherworldly yet comforting illusion for him alone to enjoy. 

As there was no logical progression from event to the next, it would be utterly useless to describe such a dream in a sequential way. Rather, something so abstract as this should only be described in abstract terms- and so, it is appropriate to liken his dream to the feeling of warm sunlight swathing you as you look over a field of flowers. Certainly not the most exciting, but a hearty, comforting feeling the likes of which Ivan needed at the moment. 

However, as nice as the moment was, it ended a tad too soon for his liking. Alfred’s voice echoed in his head several times over, his body being lightly shaken until his brain made sense of what was being said to him. 

“Vanya? Your food’s done.”

Ivan’s tired eyes opened, the world around him foggy and unclear for what seemed like an eternity until he could focus in on what was in front of him. Alfred stood before him with a cheerful smile and a bowl filled with some kind of soup. His mouth parted into a small “o” shape at the sight, it looking much better than expected. 

“What is thing you make?”

Alfred beamed at finally having found something to cheer him up. “Chicken noodle soup! This stuff’s the best when you’re sick!”

He set it down to help get Ivan back into a sitting position, a feat which was made quite easy by his sheer strength. After this, he simply sat by him and lifted the first spoonful up to his lips, knowing he wouldn’t be able to eat very easily by himself. Ivan looked at the spoon for a second before opening his mouth to taste the soup, his face quickly brightening up as the flavor coated his tongue. It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was nicely salted and somewhat decently spiced up. He continued drinking it down as the spoon was lifted to his lips over and over, feeling a pleasant warmth in his stomach. 

“You do good job!” he said between spoonfuls, “I was expect bad meal.”

Alfred, feeling somewhat indignant at the comment, let it slide since he was sick, his cheeks puffing a bit with annoyance. “Well, it would have been 100 times better if you had tools in your kitchen that weren’t from the Stone Age. When was the last time you got new stuff for your house?”

Ivan thought for a second before coming to his honest answer, drinking another spoonful of broth in the meantime. 

“1897.”

Alfred shook his head a bit, but decided discussing his household appliances could wait for another time- at least his house looked cool, even if it was creepy. “...Anyways, the soup’s helping, right?”

Ivan nodded, giving him a cheerful smile. A small bit of color seemed to have returned to his skin as he started eating- certainly not feeling back to normal, but a bit better. “Da. It is helping me feel warmness.”

Alfred grinned back. “Great! There anything else ya need right now?”

Ivan paused to think, looking down to the empty bowl. He was very full and quite comfy where he was on the couch. His feet were a bit cold, but he could shift his blanket a bit to cover them, himself. “No. I cannot be thinking of anything.”

Alfred gave him a thumbs up, helping him to lay back down and fixing his blanket for him anyways. Ivan smiled at this, giving him a quick peck on the cheek when he got close enough before settling down. The feeling of sickness was still awful, but… Having someone who cared about him be there for him during it wasn’t, he realized.

The smile on Alfred’s face only grew seeing him comforted. “Alrighty! I’ll be nearby if you need anything- just call for me, okay?” 

Ivan nodded and closed his eyes to rest again, Alfred delivering a small kiss to his nose before moving away to attend to other things in the house.


End file.
